Hey There, Castiel
by DarthAbby
Summary: Set Season 9-ish. Cas just wants to be with Dean. Dean just wants Cas back. Singing is overheard, and heartaches are intensified. First chapter is a songfic to 'Hey There, Castiel' by sunnySniper. Fluffy hurt/comfort Destiel. Rated for feels. Now Multichapter, not all songfics!
1. Chapter 1

**Woo! Not only is this my second Supernatural story and my first Destiel story, it's also the first slash story of any kind that I've written, even though I have so many slash ships that I love. The song used is 'Hey There, Castiel', a beautiful parody of 'Hey There, Delilah' (by the Plain White T's), by sunnySniper on soundcloud. I highly recommend looking it up! And if you want to know what Dean's singing sounds like, look up Jensen Ackles' covers of 'Angeles' or 'The Weight' on youtube. Both are gorgeous.**

**I don't own Supernatural, 'Hey There, Castiel', sunnySniper, 'Hey There, Delilah', Plain White T's, 'Angeles', 'The Weight', or Jensen Ackles.**

**000**

Castiel stumbled down the road. _Not much further now…_ He had initially thought that the best thing he could do was try to help his fallen brothers and sisters, but after being forced to kill several of them in self-defense, he had realized that the best option was actually to lay low at the Men of Letters bunker, as Dean had told him to do that first and only time he had called after falling. Something inside rebelled against just calling Dean and asking for the hunter to take him to the bunker, and so he walked, occasionally hitchhiking, and just trying to keep away from other angels. But now he was in Lebanon, Kansas, he was finally almost at their door, he was finally almost back to Dean, and it was so worth all the fights, all the exhaustion, all the scrounging for food and water, everything. He was almost there. He could actually _see_ the small hill that concealed the bunker, and the set of concrete steps leading down to the door, and despite the late hour and his lack of a decent night's sleep in over a week, new energy filled his legs and he walked a little faster.

Drawing closer, Cas could also make out the dark shape of someone sitting on the top step, holding a large object, their head bowed. The soft strains of music fell on his ears, chords leading into a song he had heard once or twice before, and he realized that the person was holding a guitar, not just holding it, playing it, and very well, too. From the direction he was coming, the person was facing away from him, and didn't notice as the former angel walked closer, his steps slowing until he stopped about ten feet behind the achingly familiar back and hunched shoulders. Dean drew in a breath and, to Cas' surprise, started singing, quietly but sweetly and clearly heartfelt.

"_Hey there, Castiel, well, I am sure you've heard me callin',"_ Dean sang, and for a moment, Cas was sure that the hunter knew he was there. But Dean almost never called him by his full name, and he remembered that the original song was called 'Hey There, Delilah', and so his full name fit the opening line better than his nickname. But then that just brought up the question as to why Dean was singing about him. _"You're a thousand miles away, but still, somehow I know you're listening, you must be._"

Cas' lips twitched, torn between smiling and frowning at the lyrics.

"_What's Free Will's point if I'm not free? 'Cause you've trapped me."_

His heart clenched slightly at that. Surely Dean didn't mean what Cas thought he meant.

"_Hey there, Castiel, why'd you bother pulling me out? 'Cause without you I'm right back in Hell, and frankly, I'd take burning over this,"_ Dean's head bowed a little lower, "_All of my prayers you just dismiss. But it's you I miss."_

Cas' head dropped to stare at his feet, shame welling up inside of him. He could have called, could have come sooner, but had refused to for his own foolish reasons.

"_Oh, why won't you answer me?"_ Dean sang pleadingly, and Cas' heart ached. "_No, why won't you answer me? Oh, why won't you answer me? No, why won't you answer me? Please just answer me…"_ Cas took a small step forward, intent on revealing himself, but Dean started the next verse and he lost his nerve.

"_Hey there, Castiel, you know all things fall apart,"_ Cas blinked against the strange prickling in his eyes and the voice in his head that was insisting that not everything falls apart, not _this_, whatever _this_ was._ "It's unavoidable, it happens, cities rise and fall like art, but you still hoped. For years we've clung onto this rope, we've hung 'till choked."_ Cas certainly felt choked right then, a lump rising in his throat to accompany the uncomfortable prickling behind his eyelids.

"_Hey there, Castiel, I've still got so much left to say,"_ Dean's voice was starting to sound a little rough, like there was a lump in his throat, too, but he pushed past it and kept singing. "_If every little prayer I sent to you could erase this all away, I'd send them all," _he swallowed, still strumming the guitar strings, "_Then you wouldn't ever have to fall, you'd still have it all."_

There was something wet on Cas' cheek. He reached up and touched it, looking at his hand to discover a single drop of water trembling on his finger. Angels don't cry, it's physically impossible…but apparently fallen ones can.

"_Oh, why can't you answer me?"_ Dean continued on into the chorus, "_No, why can't you answer me? Oh, why can't you answer me? No, why can't you answer me?"_ Again, Cas almost spoke up, but Dean rushed into the next verse with barely a pause and Cas was reluctant to break the spell.

"_Cas, it's been now much too long, for me this once, just play along,"_ The words were tumbling out faster, but still clear, still powered by the same heartfelt emotion as they had been since the beginning. "_I need to know if you're going to be okay. Our friends are trying to be strong, but on their faces, it's clear as dawn, that none of them had wanted it this way."_ Cas felt a brief flash of pain for Sam and Kevin and Bobby and the others, but his attention was focused back on Dean as he continued singing.

"_Cas, now things are getting rough, yesterday's hope won't be enough. Come morning, I will never be same, and you're to blame."_ Dean's voice echoed slightly against the hills and surrounding trees as it rose in volume and power, and Cas wondered if the so-called change in the morning was a good thing or not.

"_Hey there, Castiel, well I'm sure you've heard me calling,"_ Dean repeated the first line at a softer volume than the previous one, _"You're a thousand miles away, and now I know that you're not listening. Now I see. Once I deigned to call you family,"_ Cas felt a bolt of fear rush through him, did Dean not want him? He was only slightly soothed by the next line._ "Still I need you like you needed me."_ But he was powerless now – what could Dean possibly need him for?

"_Hey there, Castiel, can't you see?"_ The next lines came as if in answer to Cas' anxious thoughts. _"You set me free."_ Dean had been the one to teach Cas about free will, though, Dean had been the one to set Cas free, not the other way around.

"_Oh, why won't you answer me?"_ Dean launched into the chorus once more, his voice taking on a bittersweet tone that went straight to Cas' heart. "_No, why won't you answer me? Oh, why won't you answer me? No, why won't you answer me?_

"_Please just answer me…"_ Dean's voice faded out, the guitar following a few moments later. The song over, Cas finally found himself with a chance to speak up, as though in answer to the last line.

"Hello, Dean."

000

**I think I'll just leave it like that, unless someone wants to beta for me? I still feel like I haven't gotten a real good grasp on writing Cas' character, and would really like some help! If there's enough interest and a beta available, I'll probably try to continue this.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh look, another chapter! Exciting stuff, right? Anyways, I wasn't quite ready to give up a musically talented Dean, so there's a bit more singing in here. I think it was mentioned in the show at some point that one of Dean's favorite songs is 'Ramble On' by Led Zepplin, so I put in the first verse and chorus. I'm not even a huge Zep fan, so I had to listen to it like 20 times in a row to get the feel of it right. That alone deserves a review, right?**

**If you notice that Cas' characterization in this chapter is better, that's because it is! All the awards go to my lovely beta, who doesn't have a FFN account but can be found on tumblr under thefreespirit18. Thank you again, so, so, **_**so**_** much!**

**And thanks to TakeARideInTheImpala and scarletwillow80 for reviewing! You guys rock!**

**Disclaimer: Is my name Eric Kripke? Do I look like a member of Led Zepplin? I thought not. So, the logical conclusion is that I don't own Supernatural or 'Ramble On'. Though I wouldn't mind a Kevin of my own…he's such a cutie and I haven't done more than mention him once in anything I've written so far…that needs to change…**

**000**

"_Please just answer me…"_

Dean's hands slowed to a stop on the old guitar, letting the last few notes fade away and trying to ignore the dull ache in his chest that pulsed painfully with every heartbeat. Trying to ignore the cold, empty space beside him, trying to pretend that he wasn't still half-hoping to hear a flutter of wings and a deep, gravelly voice saying –

"Hello, Dean."

His shoulders tensed. Great, now he was hearing things. Determined to drive the hallucination and other thoughts of his missing best friend away, Dean started strumming the guitar strings again, in a faster, more upbeat tune.

"_Leaves are falling all around. It's time I was on my way." _He sang, ignoring the quiet footsteps drawing closer behind him, knowing it was just his imagination. "_Thanks to you, I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay."_

"Dean."

Damn it, his mind had preserved the exact tone and quality of Cas' voice better than he had thought. _"But now it's time for me to go,"_ his voice rose in volume, both in accordance with the song and to try to drown out the imaginary-Cas' footsteps. _"The autumn moon lights my way. For now I smell the rain, and with it pain, and it's headed my way!"_

The footsteps stopped directly behind him, and the back of his neck prickled with the intense stare Cas must be giving him – no, no one was staring at him, the prickling was just his hunter's instincts running wild with his imagination and lack of sleep._ "Sometimes I grow so tired,"_ he continued, "_But I know I've got one thing I got to do."_

"Dean?"

"_Ramble on!" _he belted out, hoping desperately that the hallucination would disappear._ "And now's the time, the time is now, to sing my song! I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl. On my way!"_

"Dean!"

'_Shut up, shut up, shut up,_' he chanted in his head, continuing the chorus. _"I've been this way ten years to the day. Ramble on! Gotta find the queen of all my dreams –"_

A hand was suddenly on his shoulder and he stopped abruptly, jumping up with the guitar in one hand and his favorite Colt .45 in the other, aiming at – Dean blinked a few times. It _was_ Cas. A dirty, tired, bedraggled, human Cas. Or, at least, it looked like him. He had some cuts and bruises but it was almost definitely his Cas. _'My Cas?'_ Dean shook the thought away, not wanting to dwell on when the former angel had become 'his'. Which he wasn't. There were, however specific tests that needed to be followed before he could accept that his best friend was before him.

"Dean," maybe-Cas smiled weakly, hands raised to show his lack of a weapon. "It's you."

"…Cas?" Dean asked hesitantly, still aiming his gun at maybe-Cas' heart. The small smile grew, maybe-Cas clearly not fazed by the threat the hunter posed. "Cas, that really you?"

"It's really me, Dean," his smile was slightly incredulous, like he couldn't believe it himself. He accepted the flask of holy water from Dean without comment, taking a swig, enjoying both the cool liquid and the fact that this would help Dean trust him.

Cas expected to feel the chill bite of a silver blade on his palm next, but Dean forwent the rest of the test to pull the fallen angel into a tight hug. Cas still hadn't proved he wasn't a shifter, but there are some things you just can't fake, like the look in his glacial blue eyes at finally being back at the bunker, back with the Winchesters, back with _Dean_ again. The hunter needed no further proof at the moment – he might make Cas finish the test later, but for now, the holy water was good enough for him.

They stood silently together for a long moment, each just holding the other to him, trying to say without words '_it's okay, I'm here, I'm safe, you're safe, everything is going to be fine now'_. "Damnit, Cas, where've you been?" Dean grumbled, tightening his hold slightly.

"Nowhere. Everywhere." Cas sighed, bending his head down to rest his forehead on Dean's shoulder. "Always on the move, trying to avoid angels and demons and supernatural monsters and…" his hands gripped the material of Dean's jacket tighter. "…and the human monsters, too," he spoke so quietly, Dean almost didn't hear him.

"Human monsters?" Dean questioned, pulling back slightly to look at his friend's face, a sudden rush of worry and concern making his pulse jump. "What do you mean, 'human monsters'? Cas, what happened?"

"It is not of import," he answered gruffly, avoiding the searching green eyes and waving a weary hand. "I'm fine, Dean."

A muscle in the hunter's jaw jumped, but he decided to let it go for now. "C'mon," he said, breaking the hug to sling his arm around Cas' narrow shoulders and lead him into the bunker. "Let's see if we can't find some clean clothes and a hot meal for you."

Cas gave a half-hearted smile, sure he was going to be questioned further later on, but happy Dean wasn't pursuing the matter for the moment. "Yes, that sounds nice."

It was quiet as the entered the Men of Letters' sanctuary, even Kevin having gone to bed already. Papers were scattered across the library tables, spread across the pages of books, spilling out of ledgers, and threatening to bury a few empty beer and water bottles. Cas and Dean silently made their way through the library, past the archives and bathroom, and stopped in front of Dean's room. The hunter ducked inside for a moment, setting down his guitar and returning with a pair of old sweatpants, a Metallica t-shirt, and even, though he had hesitated in grabbing them, a pair of boxers.

"Bathroom's right back there," Dean nodded down the hall in the direction they had come from as he handed Cas the clothes. "And kitchen's at the end of this hall. You grab a shower, and I'll get started on the food."

Cas held the clean clothes somewhat gingerly, afraid of accidently transferring all the dust and mud he had collected from his time on the road onto the cloth. "Thank you, Dean," he said, looking up from the bundle to give the hunter a tired smile.

"No problem, Cas," he smiled back, watching the former angel turn and walk back down the hall slowly. "Towels are on the shelves to the right!" he called as an afterthought. Cas raised a hand to show he had heard before stepping inside the bathroom and closing the door.

As soon as he was out of sight, Dean leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his hair, heaving a deep sigh and closing his eyes against the yellow-white light from the bulbs above him.

Cas was _back_. Against the odds, and even with some semblance of humanity. He was smiling and hugging and even, Dean wouldn't mention it but he wasn't going to pretend he hadn't noticed the tear tracks on Cas' cheeks either, crying.

He was still keeping secrets though. Some things never change, apparently. These 'human monsters'… Dean shuddered at the thought of what might've happened. He had run into his fair share of no-good humans; serial killers, rapists, pedophiles, even cannibals. The thought that a serial killer had tried to target Cas, that a rapist had tried to touch him, that a cannibal had tried to trap him…a slow, sick burn of anger collected in the pit of Dean's stomach, growing with each terrible possibility. And without any angelic mojo…well, Cas wasn't helpless (he had survived this long on his own, after all, with thousands of angels hell bent on killing him) but he wasn't any Chuck Norris, either.

Shaking away the darker thoughts trying to creep in, Dean pushed off the wall and headed towards the kitchen. Whatever else had happened, Cas was most definitely hungry, and Dean would be damned (again) if he let a friend starve when he could easily remedy the situation.

000

**Alright, so there you have it! Before you say anything, yes, all the Dean/Cas feels were inspired by the 9.03 promo, which I watched just before writing the second half of this last Tuesday. But judging by more pictures and gifs and videos I've seen of 9.03, this story is going to turn AU pretty quick. Which I kinda figured it would, but still, how awesome would it be if even a little bit of this turns out to be canon? **

**Anyways, next chapter should be up fairly soon, within the next ten days or so, depending on how fast I can write, how fast freespirit can edit and get it back to me (no pressure on you, of course, I know you've got other stuff), and how fast I can comb over it until my inner perfectionist is satisfied. But the good news is, I think at least Sam and probably Kevin will make an appearance next chapter! Like I said at the top, my stuff is sadly lacking any amazing Tran-ness, and so I'm going to try to remedy that.**

**And, as always of course, reviews are lovely!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, look! New chapter! We're on a roll!**

**I'm not ashamed to admit that this was a steaming pile of crap before my lovely beta, thefreespirit18 on tumblr, got a hold of it. I ****hated**** this chapter with a burning vengeance, wrestled with it for a week, and then she has it for two days and it comes out sparkling. I bow before the master, teach me your magic.**

**Thanks for the favorites and follows, and remember to review!**

**And, as always, I don't own anything.**

**000**

A very welcome smell drifting through the bunker woke Sam Winchester up. He lay in bed for a few moments, vaguely enjoying the smell without recognizing it and staying under the warm covers. When his brain finally registered '_bacon_', though, even the cold floor wasn't going to stop him from getting to the kitchen.

Glancing at the clock as he sat up, Sam absently noted that it was just past four in the morning. The early hour didn't bother him all that much, even if he hadn't gone to sleep until after midnight, but it did raise the question as to who was making bacon. Kevin rarely went to bed before two am, and usually slept until at least 8, and while Dean would get up before 9, he tried not to unless there was a murder to solve or a creature to kill. And if Charlie had dropped by, she would have barged into Sam and Dean's rooms talking at 80 miles an hour about some supernatural occurrence they needed to check out, not make them bacon. Although, she might force _them_ to make her bacon.

Sam lay in bed a few minutes longer, debating with himself whether to get up and get some food, or to go back to sleep and not leave his warm, comfy bed. The longer he stayed in bed, the more he began to smell eggs and decided to brave the cold, hard floor outside his room. Slowly he rose, and moved quickly to the Kitchen.

The last thing Sam expected to find (besides, say, Dick Roman, or Azazel) was his brother making a fallen angel breakfast. He paused in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene and smiling at what he saw. Dean was in front of the stove with two pans going, one full of sizzling bacon and the other with scrambled eggs, humming Led Zepplin quietly to himself, concentrating on the food in front of him. Cas was sitting limply at the table, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee for warmth and his hair damp. Neither of them noticed Sam watching them.

With a shrug, mostly to himself, Sam decided not to question it. If one of them was a monster or demon, the other would be doing something about it by now. He walked in and sat down next to the former angel, who turned to look at him with mild surprise. "Hello, Sam."

"Hey, Cas," Sam nodded at him and yawned involuntarily. "Sorry. Just woke up. When did you get here?"

"About half an hour ago." Cas blinked in surprise as he found himself yawning too, and Sam chuckled.

"Catching, isn't it?"

"It's a contagious disease?"

"No, it's more of a psychological thing that I can't explain properly before seven in the morning and a few cups of coffee."

Cas nodded understandingly. "I have found that my reaction times and brain process are slower in the mornings and without caffeine as well."

Sam clapped a hand onto his shoulder. "Welcome to humanity." Castiel's lips twitched slightly, torn between amusement, gratefulness, and sadness. He was spared giving an answer when Dean set a plate piled high with food in front of him.

"Dig in, dude," Dean said with a small, crooked smile as he stepped back.

Sam, seeing that Dean wasn't returning to the stove, scowled at his big brother as Cas practically dove into his meal. "What, you aren't gonna make some for me?"

"You know how to make freaking eggs and bacon," Dean rolled his eyes and dropped into the chair opposite Sam. "Get it yourself."

"No, I don't, not good ones, anyway. You never let me anywhere near the stove the times we stayed in a room with one growing up."

"Dude, you don't survive four years of college without learning how to make something as easy as that. I didn't even go, and I know that!"

As the brothers continued their annoyed but lighthearted bickering, Cas kept eating. He had never had eggs like this before, and it was surprisingly delicious. Not that he thought that Dean would give him anything that might not taste good, but he had never thought that egg yolks, milk, and some salt and pepper all mixed together and cooked in a pan would taste so good. And the bacon…! Now he understood why Dean often ordered it on top of his cheeseburgers.

A tall glass of something orange was suddenly set down in front of him, and he studied it curiously. A quick sniff told him it was orange juice. Cas glanced up to see who had put it there, but whoever it was had been drawn back into the argument over what skills are necessary to survive college and wasn't looking at him now. He took a sip, his eyes widening as the tart but sweet juice complimented the meaty flavor of the bacon and the somewhat bland but still delicious eggs. He started rotating his attentions, taking a bite of bacon, a forkful of eggs, and a sip of juice before repeating the cycle.

Cas didn't realize that the boys had fallen silent or that Sam had given up and gone back to bed for a few more hours until his fork scraped across the empty plate and he looked up to thank Dean.

"I take it that you hate my cooking," Dean said, amused.

"It was terrible," Cas deadpanned, his use of sarcasm greatly improved after it was apparent that it was one of his first and last lines of defense since becoming human.

Dean looked shocked for a moment, then _laughed_, laughed like Cas hadn't seen him laugh since after the ill-fated brothel experience, with his head thrown back and his chest jumping as he struggled to draw in air between chortles.

Laughter was apparently just as catching as yawns, and Cas found himself chuckling alongside his friend. He might not have any 'mojo' left, he might not be an angel anymore, he might have a neon target on his back, and he might be putting them all in danger, but Cas, for the first time in a very long time, finally had a clear goal that wouldn't result in anyone getting hurt.

He wanted to make Dean laugh like that every day.

**000**

**Still no Kevin…but you got Sam and a cotton-candy-fluffity-fluff of an ending, so there's that.**

**Please feel free to make suggestions in your reviews! I will always take them into consideration, as this is very much still a Work In Progress, so your ideas might get incorporated in if I like them enough and I think I can work them into the story! If you just have a fantastic idea, but it won't fit in here, maybe I'll even make you a oneshot!**

**So review please!**


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